Analysis
by Morphin' in
Summary: Contains M/M.The first in the Blue Lightning series.Billy/Rocky


Disclaimer:I don't own the Power Rangers...darn it all!Also, the clubs name 'J.C's' and the magazine 'Trance' were chosen at random:no infringement is intended.

Author's note:update:just a grammer skim...let me know if I missed anything!

Summary:There's no specific year for this, so any ranger stuff mentioned is likely AU (although it could have happened!) but I can tell you both boys are in their early twenties. Please enjoy. If you do-tell me. if you don't - TELL ME...I need to get feedback on this people!

Billy was alive. Alive and happy. Alive and happy and quite possibly drunk!

He looked around him from his precarious perch on the bar stool, feeling the world shift in a surprisingly satisfying way as he turned his head scanning from one end of crowded club to the other. Hell, it was 11 o'clock on a school night, he had to be up early tomorrow, and he just didn't give a damn! He was having FUN!

He wondered why he hadn't done this before.

Rocky bounded up to him, his eyes bright with excitement, and not just a few shots of tequila; the exertion from his enthusiastic circuit of the floor barely showing, as he nimbly hopped up to share the stool, wrapping an arm around Billy's waist to prevent him falling.

The day had started with a call for help from the current ranger team, seeking Billy's scientific and morphological expertise; then had progressed to mayhem, in which Billy had been forced to fight for his life against some very worrying odds. Now it was mayhem of a different kind. He had decided after that scare that he really needed to celebrate, and after running into his former team mate, had been talked into a night on the town. That was how they'd come to be here, at J.C's, one of the hottest nightclubs in the city; a place where, queue all you liked, you didn't get in unless you knew the bouncers-which Rocky did. Or rather, they knew him. Everyone knew Rocky; as a prominently featured reporter for '_Trance'_, _the_ trend setting magazine in Angel Grove, Rocky was practically royalty as far as the owners of every club in the district were concerned.

Rocky grinned lopsidedly at him, and signalled the bartender for a glass of water, which he proceeded to down with gusto. As he finished, he happily slammed the glass back on the bar, before turning to Billy, leaning in close to his ear to be heard.

'You good here, or you wanna move on?'

Billy didn't hear him the first time, as he was far too preoccupied with the feel of Rocky's thigh pressed tightly to his own, and the strong muscles of his chest clearly outlined against the shirt that clung to him like a second skin. As Rocky asked again, Billy tried to focus on the amused brown eyes of his companion. Regretfully realising that maybe he should call it a night, Billy offered an apologetic shrug. He directed his response into the other man's ear, noting as he did so an enticing scent, somewhere between amber spices and chilli peppers.

'I have to admit, that whilst the night is still young-as they say-I must retire.' He pulled back, to assess the reaction his reply had met with, and saw the beginnings of a frown mar the youthfully handsome face in front him, before a high-watt smile replaced it.

'Okay,' Rocky accepted 'but your place is _way_ across town. Let's get a cab, and you can crash at my pad tonight.' Billy started to protest, but Rocky was having none of it. He hauled both of them across to the exit, claiming their coats from check and helping Billy on with his, before stepping out into the chilly night air.

* * *

As they walked to the taxi rank in companionable silence, Billy began to feel a little more clearheaded. Looking around, he saw a couple in a nearby doorway thoroughly engaged in a game of tonsil hockey. Not unused to this sight, he would have passed them by; except one of the pair bore a striking resemblance to an old friend of his. The one closest to them, the shorter of the two, had jet black hair and was built like a compact bulldozer. In the illumination of a streetlight overhead, the red shirt on this man strained to contain his heavily muscled biceps and torso; power radiated from him in waves. Billy was fairly certain it was Jason he was seeing, but figured that now would not be the most convenient time for a reunion. As the couple turned slightly, it became obvious that the individual with him was male. _Very_ male, if such a distinction could be made. He watched for a moment, knowing that he really shouldn't, before a guilty blush crept into his cheeks and he turned to Rocky, who was calmly watching _him_. For some reason, Billy felt his blush deepen, and he quickly looked away before mumbling 'I've never kissed a man before.' He carefully observed his friend's reaction, from the edge of his field of vision.

Rocky continued to watch him, his deep brown eyes turning darker and the pupils dilating - _to compensate for the reduced levels of lighting _Billy speculated; even though a more observant, but drink pacified part of himself suggested a different reason altogether.

'I have' Rocky stated. The words seemed to hang weighted in the air, filled with a far greater meaning than the simple acknowledgement would otherwise imply. Billy heard a perceptible change in the timbre of his voice; it was deeper, seeming to rumble in Rocky's chest – in his too! He recognised with interest.

'What's it like?' The words were out before he even realised he had _actually _said them. He wished he could take back his question, unsure of how it would be received, or more specifically if it showed his piqued interest in the answer.

Rocky seemed to reflect for a moment, as if seriously considering his answer before replying.

'It depends on who you're kissing. I guess it's _firmer_ than with most of the women I've kissed, and it's...I can't really describe it!' He paused 'But I could show you!' He added with measured calm.

Billy licked his lips nervously. He took one tentative step forward, then stopped. With a sigh of anticipation, Rocky closed the gap. They stood for a moment, breathing each other in before, with unbearable slowness, Rocky pressed his lips to Billy's. Hesitantly at first then with increasing ardour, Billy began to return the kiss; finding a whole new medium to experiment with, in the tongue that slipped into his mouth to seek his own. He felt hands cup the sides of his face, at once both reassuring and demanding. Their kiss turned into something more as Rocky, satisfied his companion wasn't going anywhere soon, began to back them towards the wall behind Billy. With this new barrier established, he was free to allow his hands to roam; and he took advantage of that as he lightly skimmed his fingers over the open dark blue windbreaker Billy wore: over his shoulders, down his chest, resting momentarily at the slim waist, before settling over the angular shape of his hips. He used this hold to pull himself in closer to the other man

As he felt the hands of his friend begin to curve over his hips, and slide comfortably over his buttocks, Billy moaned against the skilled tongue that held him in rapture.

Yes, Billy was alive. Alive and very, _very_ happy.

THE END


End file.
